


Keep You

by obsidianlullaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Dehumanization, Interspecies, Other, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidianlullaby/pseuds/obsidianlullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean Winchester acquires a "pet" angel, falls in love, and kind of helps to change the world.</p>
<p>(For any fandom jumpers, yes, this is heavily influenced by petstuck.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean would be the first one to tell you he wasn’t an animal guy. He especially wasn’t an angel guy, they creeped him out with the way they walked on two feet and wore clothes and sometimes even talked a little and were practically human except for the fact that they’re not, they were fucking animals--the point is, Dean’s wasn’t really big on pets, like, at all, but he wasn’t heartless either.

He passed the little angel tied to the bike rack outside the shop for the umpteenth time, huddled under its bedraggled, dark wings as the rain soaks through its worn, messy clothes. This time, Dean stopped. He crouched down, and the little beast hisses and backed away. From up close, Dean could see the bruises, the scabs under the facial feathers; his stomach heaved. The angel also had the bluest pair of eyes he’d ever seen on anything, ever. His dark, messy hair matched his wings and damn, he’d be beautiful if he weren’t such a mess. Dean reached out and pulls the little guy into his arms, but the damned angel freaked out, yowled, and clawed him on the shoulder.

“Son of bitch,” Dean hissed “That’s gonna leave a mark. Come on, play nice, I’m not gonna hurt you, man.” He rocked the angel in his arms, hopefully soothingly. After a moment of struggling, the angel warily relaxed into the crook of his arm, and Dean reached over to fumble with the rope tied--too tight, there was rope burn, _fuck_ \--around his neck. He finally got the little dude free and slowly rose to his feet. Holding the angel as carefully as he could, he stomped into the auto shop.

“Alright,” he demands of his barely-awake coworkers, “whose pet is this?”

Benny met his eyes and shook his head in warning, but it was too late.

“That would be me,” the boss, Alistair, drawed. “Problem, Winchester?”

That would have been enough to send Dean to the floor, groveling, it weren’t for the fact that the angel let out this tiny, helpless whimper, and Dean just couldn’t let him down.

“Damn straight we’ve got a problem,” Dean said, summoning all of his courage. “What’ve you been doing to this poor thing? Do you even feed him?”

“I don’t see how the way I care for Castiel is any of your concern.”

_Castiel_. At least he had a name.

“I’m more concerned with the lack of care, actually,” Dean snapped.

“I’m giving you one chance, Winshester,” Alistair said, smiling that creepy smile of his that showed way too many teeth and didn’t even approach his eyes. “Put the angel back where you found him, and I’ll let your insolence go with only minor repercussions.”

Castiel was trembling in Dean’s arms.

“Yeah, fuck you,” Dean said. He turned and walked out of the only steady job he’d ever had.

***

_Of course_ , today had to be Sam’s day off.

“Dean! What are you doing home?” the sasquatch shouted as Dean entered their little apartment. “Whoa, is that an angel? He doesn’t look too good--are you _bleeding?_ ”

“Mother of god, Sammy, shut up and take this thing away from me.”

Obligingly, Sam took Castiel, who fought at first, but Sam handled him like an expert. He got through it without sustaining a single injury, the bitch. Dean huffed in exasperation.

“I’m gonna go wash this scratch,” Dean grumbled.

Sam followed him into the bathroom with Castiel, like that wasn’t invasive at all.

“That looks nasty,” Sam observed as Dean stripped off his shirt and poured on the antiseptic they kept above the sink. “What happened?”

“That thing in your arms happened,” Dean answered. “Apparently his previous owner wasn’t the kind of guy you’d want touching you.”

“I can see that,” Sam said, a touch of anger in his voice as he looked down at the angel he held. “So Alistair gave you the day off to take care of him?”

There it was. “No.”

“No?”

“Alistair was the previous owner.”

“Oh.”

Cue the awkward silence.

“Look, it’s not a big deal, okay? I’ll find something else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No worries.”

“So why are you looking at me like that?” Dean snapped at his little brother, unable to bear the weight of Sam’s puppy-dog eyes any longer.

“Nothing. I’m just proud of you, man.”

Dean snorted. “For firing off my mouth and getting sacked again?”

“For standing up for someone who needed it.”

Dean didn’t want to have this talk, so he busied himself with setting the gauze on his wound.

“And hey, I’m just glad you’re finally letting us have a pet.”

“Whoa, no,” Dean said, spinning around. “We are not keeping him. It. We are not keeping it.”

“Dean,” Sam said, putting on his Serious Face, “you cannot seriously tell me you took this angel without the expectation of any responsibility or commitment. What, you were just going to throw him to the mercy of the nearest pound?”

“Hey, I threw away my job for him! I can’t seriously be expected to--”

“Deeean,” a tiny voice cried.

As one, Dean and Sam looked to Castiel, who was stretching his arms out to the older brother.

“Want... Dean...” the little angel insisted.

Sam just looked at Dean.

“Fuck,” Dean said, taking Castiel into his own arms. “I hate you both.”


	2. Chapter 2

Next thing Dean knew, Sam was shoving the both of them out the door with directions to the nearest pet shop (he knew where the nearest pet shop was _off the top of his head_ , what the hell) and orders to “get him some things.” By rights, Dean thought, as he tried to juggle holding both Castiel and an umbrella, Sam should’ve been the one doing the shopping, he was the one who was all into this.

Problem was, once Castiel got his talons hooked back into Dean’s shirt, he refused to let go a second time. Thus leaving Dean on shopping duty.

“Good morning!” exclaimed a bright-faced sales assistant as Dean walked through the door of the pet shop. “How can I--oh my goodness.” The girl stopped short at the sight of Castiel. She turned eyes full of condemnation on Dean. “Excuse me, but just what--”

“Whoa, let me stop you right there,” Dean cut in. “Before you start going off on me, I just got this little guy this morning, okay? I know he’s in pretty bad shape, that’s why I took him.”

The girl’s gaze softened. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed...”

“Nah,” Dean said. “I reacted pretty similarly. We’re here to spoil the little fella,” Dean said, ruffling Castiel’s hair.

The girl’s face lit up. “Oh, well, I can help with _that_.”

Ten minutes later, she was holding a basket full of “the angel essentials” and dragging a groaning Dean into the clothing aisle. Castiel seemed wholly indifferent to all the clothes that were held up to him, until the salesgirl produced a tan trench coat.

“Oooh,” Castiel gurgled, staring.

“You like it?” Dean asked, unable to help smiling, even though he found the coat kind of ridiculous.

Castiel nodded enthusiastically.

“We’ll take it,” Dean said. The girl grinned and dropped it into the basket, together with a few other articles she absolutely insisted on and Dean felt really unqualified to argue about.

After she rang them up, she grabbed a pen and scribbled something on the back of Dean’s receipt.

“My number,” she said, handing it to him with a wink. “In case you need any more help with him.”

“I’m warming up to this whole pet thing,” Dean mused as he walked back home.

“Warm,” Castiel sighed against Dean’s chest, a little smile on his delicate face.

If Dean’s heart melted, no one needed to know.

***

Sam was sitting with his laptop when Dean got home.

“Dude,” Dean said, “did you send me out on an errand so you could watch porn?”

“I’m not watching porn, jerk.”

“Then what are you doing, bitch?”

Sam grinned. “Researching angels. Looks like they can eat all the same stuff humans do.”

“Nice,” Dean said, ruffling Castiel’s hair. “Guess we won’t have to go out of our way for you, little guy.”

“Jerk,” Castiel hummed, nuzzling against Dean’s chest.

Sam cringed. “We should probably watch the language around him, huh?”

Dean laughed. “Hurry up and take this shit off of me.”

Sam lumbered over and grabbed the bag of angel supplies from Dean. He tossed it onto the counter and began taking stock of Dean’s purchases. “Vitamins, oh, good, I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, and some nice things for wing care.”

As if in response, Castiel began flapping his wings. “Mmph!” Dean cried as a wing hit him in the face. “Chill, Cas, chill.” Dean held the angel out until he tucked his wings back beside his spine.

“Cas?” Sam asked, perking up. “Is that his name? I forgot to ask.”

“Yeah. Well,” Dean fumbled, “his name’s Castiel. But Cas, it’s--” Not a nickname. That would be stupid. Sam was the one all hyped up about this. It had just... felt natural.

“Yeah,” Sam said, saving Dean from wrestling with his tongue any longer. “It’s good, I like it. Castiel’s a mouthful, and this... makes him ours. It’s good.”

Dean’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Huh, Cas? You like that?” He shifted the little angel on his hip to get a good look at his. From behind the tangles of hair that fell over his face, Castiel beamed up at Dean. Dean repeated, “You like it?”

“Cas!” he exclaimed in response, pounding a fist against his chest proudly. “Cas, Cas!”

“Great,” Sam said, shoving the angel supplies into a cabinet. “You give _Cas_ a bath while I go grab dinner.”

“What, no. No. No way. You can’t do this to me, man.”

“Don’t get any shampoo in his eyes,” Sam called over his shoulder, just before the door swung shut.

Cas looked up at Dean with those big blue eyes. He really was a mess, and he stank almost as bad as Dean after a day in the shop. With a grunt, Dean carried him into the bathroom.

First order of business was to fill up the tub. After setting Cas down, Dean fidgeted with the hot and cold knobs until the nozzle sprayed out water of a satisfactory temperature.

“Reach for the sky,” Dean instructed as the room filled with steam and the sound of rushing water. Obligingly, Cas lifted his little arms as far as they could go. Dean tugged off the ill-fitted t-shirt, and hissed when he saw the bruises and scars it concealed.

“God, Cas,” Dean mumbled. “I’m so sorry. We’re--Sammy and I, we’re never going to let anything like that happen to you again, okay?”

Cas nodded.

Dean couldn’t even begin to understand how Castiel could trust him so blindly and seem so happy after all he’d been through. The temptation to go back to the shop and punch Alistair in the nuts grew with every passing second.

“Alright,” Dean said, after helping Cas shed the rest of his clothes. “In we go.” He heaved Castiel up and into the water. Cas yelped and splashed around in the water, flapping his wings and sending water droplets flying everywhere. “Easy, Cas,” Dean laughed as water splashed all around. “Easy.”

He dumped shampoo into his hand. “Close your eyes, look up.” Cas obeyed. Dean massaged the shampoo into the angel’s hair, feeling the dirt give way beneath fingers. Cas hummed with pleasure.

“You like this?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Cas sighed.

“Keep your eyes shut tight, then, or you won’t like it at all. This stuff stings like a bitch, let me tell you.”

After they finished the bath--Dean was very careful not to aggravate any of Castiel’s injuries--Dean sat Cas on his lap and dragged his fingers through the feathers on his wings, at his neck, and on his chest. Cas was all but purring as he worked, wriggling with pleasure.

It was all illegally adorable, really.

“Food’s here!” Sam called and slammed the front door.

“Coming!” Dean called as finished up toweling Cas dry. He helped Cas into his new clothes and carried him out of the bathroom. A familiar aroma greeted them as they emerged. “Are those burgers I smell?”

“To celebrate,” Sam said, nodding. He was tearing a burger into pieces and dropping them onto a plate.

Concluding from a glance that Cas was too small to reach the table from a chair, Dean simply plopped the angel onto the tabletop. “Don’t fall,” he added, as an afterthought. Cas nodded solemnly and scooted away from the edge.

“We could grab some phone books, improvise a high chair,” Sam suggested, .

“Nah, he’s got this. Don’t you, Cas?”

“Got this.” Cas confirmed. “Not fall!”

“Alright then,” Sam said, skeptically, laying out the plates. “Here y’go. Hope you like it, Cas.”

As it turned out, Cas _loved_ burgers. So much that Dean even sacrificed half of one of his own burgers so that Cas could have more.

“I didn’t think he’d eat this much,” Sam said, apologetically.

“He probably shouldn’t,” Dean laughed. “But, man, look at him, he’s lovin’ it. Worth it.” Cas blushed around the burger pieces he was shoveling into his mouth, which made Dean laugh harder.

“Fine, but you’re cleaning it up if he barfs tonight.”

“Whoa, hey, what _are_ we gonna do with him tonight? Where’ll he sleep?”

Cas immediately jumped Dean’s arm. “Dean,” he declared.

“Seems like Cas has the sleeping arrangements all figured out,” Sam snorted.

“No way,” Dean said at once.

“Deeean,” Cas insisted, turning puppy eyes more fearsome even than Sam’s against Dean’s quickly-crumbling will.

Dean groaned. “Fine. Fine. You win.”

If Cas was a dog or a cat, the mere prospect of him in Dean’s bed would have been enough for an instant eviction, but here Dean was carrying the little bastard into his room. Angels were pets, and it was stupid to think pets could be anything else.

But Dean didn’t like animals.

But he liked Cas.

It might be something worth thinking about, when he didn’t have a bed beneath him, an angel curled against him, and an exhausting day behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

“You holding up alright, brother?” Benny had called first thing in the morning. Actually, he’d called several times the previous evening, but Dean had been too preoccupied bathing the angel to notice the buzzing of his phone.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean answered. “Sam’s earning more than enough to cover us for a while. I just hate having to depend on him, you know?”

“I know,” Benny said, voice overflowing with sympathy. “It was a mighty fine thing you did, though. Gotta tell you, I wasn’t too far off from doing just about the same. The poor angel would’ve been better off on the streets than with Alistair.”

“You wouldn’t believe how right you are,” Dean confided. “He’s covered in scars, Benny. There’s a special place in hell for Alistair for what he’s done to Cas.”

“Cas?”

“Castiel. The angel.”

“Sounds like you went and got attached.”

Dean shifted. “I guess. A little.”

“You’re keeping him, then?”

Dean looked down at the still-sleeping Castiel. “Lookin’ like it. I mean, what else can we do with him? The pound would--” Dean choked in disgust at the thought of what the pound would mean for Cas. Everyone knew the statistics, but it was different when viewed from the perspective who’d spent an entire day being reminded of just how alive angels really were. “The pound isn’t an option.”

“Understood.” Benny’s voice was soft. “Who knows? He might do you some good.”

“Yeah. We need another mouth to feed so bad around here.”

“A little affection wouldn’t go amiss with you, is all I’m saying.”

“Benny--”

“I should be gettin’ to work. You take care, brother.”

“You too.”

Dean dropped his phone back onto the bedside table, and rolled back over only to be startled by two big, bright blue eyes staring at him. Castiel reached out one of his tiny hands and patted Dean’s cheek. The talons pricked painlessly at his skin.

“Dean,” Cas said.

“Cas,” Dean answered.

Cas smiled and closed his eyes, nuzzling into Dean’s neck.

Dean smiled and closed his eyes too.

“Tell you one thing,” Dean said, stroking the back of Castiel’s head, “This, this I could get used to.”

He definitely meant sleeping in. Completely.

***

Dean, Sam, and Castiel found themselves settling into a routine. Sam would leave for work in the morning. Dean and Cas would roll out of bed sometime around noon. They would share leftovers on the couch, eyes glued to some soap opera or another. Dean wasn’t sure if Cas actually followed the storylines, but he seemed plenty entranced every time.

Dean would leave Castiel with a stack of children’s books that Sam had bought and strict orders not to break anything to go out job-hunting. The job-hunting never went well, but coming home to a clingy, snuggly Castiel always managed to soften the blow. Dean would then give Cas a quick bath before Sam returned home, bearing precious food.

Sometimes, though, Dean just wasn’t feeling up the job search, so he would call Sam, tell him dinner was under control, and take Cas grocery shopping.

One day, in the produce aisle, Dean asked Cas which tomatoes he wanted to get. Castiel thoughtfully reached up with his little, taloned hands, and sifted through the tomatoes. This action was met with a loud shriek.

“What,” screamed a a woman who wore too much makeup and terrible jewelry, “is that _angel_ doing in here?”

“Shopping,” Dean said, coldly.

“He’s getting his _filth_ all over everything.”

“He can talk. He can read. He can fucking well help me pick out groceries.” Hastily, he added, “If Sam asks, I totally didn’t use the bad word around you, Cas.”

Castiel, who had been frozen with an armful of tomatoes in confusion and uncertainty, nodded seriously to Dean.

“It’s an animal!”

“Call _him_ that again,” Dean said, slowly, surprising even himself with his anger, “and you’ll be leaving here with a broken nose.”

The woman went pale and hustled away, bristling with indignation.

Dean looked around. People were watching, but no one seemed up for a fight.

“C’mon, Cas. We need beef.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean woke up with a ball of fire on his chest.

Okay, not a literal ball of fire, but it felt like it. Cas was burning up.

“Cas?” Dean asked, shaking him. “I think you have a fever, man. Cas? Cas, wake up.”

Cas didn’t wake up, even when Dean plucked him off of his chest and dropped him on the bed. Dean panicked appropriately.

“Sam!” he roared. “Sam! Cas needs help.”

Sam came running into the room, only half-dressed. “What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea,” Dean spluttered. “He’s all hot, and he won’t wake up. Sammy, what’re we gonna do?”

“Calm down,” Sam said, firmly, though his eyes betrayed his own worry. “I’ll call the vet.”

Dean trusted that Sam would report anything important, so he stayed with Cas, stroking the little angel’s sweat soaked hair.

“Dean?” Sam called from the kitchen. “How old is Cas?”

“Uh, we’ve had him for, what, a year now? He can’t be too old, look at the guy.”

“The vet says you can’t usually tell with angels, just by looking. How long are his talons?”

“Inch and a half?”

Sam was silent for a moment, then came back into the room. “We don’t have anything to worry about.”

“The fuck we don’t!”

“Look, Dean, the vet says this is normal. It’s the start of his... growth spurt, I guess. He’ll be kind of comatose for a few days, then, boom, fully-matured angel.”

Dean found the thought of an adult Castiel very unsettling. “You mean he goes through a metamorphosis, like a butterfly?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Angels are weird, man.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So what do we do with him? You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Positive. And I guess we’re just kinda supposed to. Take off his clothes, cuz he’ll outgrow them. And leave him be for a while?”

“How long is a while?” Dean asked, as he began stripping Castiel out of his pajamas.

“I don’t know. It varies, apparently, but something like three to five days.”

***

Three days of sleeping on the couch later, Dean walked into his room and found a naked sex god sprawled out on his bed, covered in a sheen of sweat with mussed hair and huge, dark wings.

“Hello, Dean,” said Castiel.

Dean was too busy gawking to respond.

“Is everything alright?” Castiel asked, his gorgeous eyes lighting up with worry. He slung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, then moved his _very naked_ body right over to Dean.

Apparently, the guy still had no grasp of personal space.

“Nnghuu,” Dean gobbled. There was only one recourse. He fled.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asked, when Dean sought refuge in his brother’s room.

“Cas is _hot_.”

Sam frowned. “The fever still hasn’t gone down?”

“No, I mean, he’s pulled a butterfly and is _Scarlett Johansson_ amounts of hot. Except a dude. Obviously. He didn’t, like, turn into a chick.”

“He’s awake?” Sam asked. He started to move toward the door.

“No, don’t--” Dean tried to warn him. He tried.

“Sam!” Dean heard Cas exclaim, but the greeting was cut off by Sam’s brisk, blushing reentrance into the bedroom.

“Well,” Sam said, staring at the floor. “That’s a problem.”

“Told you.”

***

After a lot of yelling through the door, Cas finally caught on to the issue.

“I’m dressed now,” he harrumphed. “Not that I understand why my nakedness is suddenly an issue with you two.”

Dean emerged, cautiously, to--whoa, to the super hot guy who could not possibly be little Castiel all disheveled and _wearing his clothes_ like the morning after, nope, he could not deal with this, nope--

“Dean, if you shut that door on me again, I am going to break it down.”

Okay, he was dealing with this. He was dealing like the adult he clearly was.

Dean coughed. “Sorry, Cas. It’s just weird.”

Cas looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“Well,” Sam said, sidestepping out from behind Dean, “I’m going out to meet a client. You kids have fun.”

Dean shot Sam a look somewhere between please-don’t-leave-me and take-one-more-step-and-you-die.

Sam grinned and left.

Goddamn traitor.

“So,” Castiel said, ruffling his wings irritably. “What, precisely, is your problem?”

“ _You were a baby yesterday._ ”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “You would have had plenty of time to prepare for this change, had you done even the minimal amount of research on my kind.”

“And you’re talking weird! Your voice is crazy deep, what the hell?”

Cas sighed in exasperation and paced toward the door. “I’ll give you some time to adjust.”

Dean reached out and grabbed the angel’s arm on instinct. “Wait but--you’ve never been out by yourself before.”

Cas shot Dean a withering look and yanked his arm easily out of Dean’s grip. “I believe I’ll be fine.” He stormed out and slammed the door behind him.

And just like that, Castiel was all grown up.

Dean wasn’t reallysure how he felt about that.


End file.
